


i'm in a world apart (a world where roses bloom)

by nonbinarynino



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir Has a Crush on Ladybug, Developing Relationship, F/M, First Kiss, Identity Reveal, Ladybug & Chat Noir Are Best Friends, Late Night Conversations, Lukanette, but its not a love triangle its just lukanette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2020-03-13 21:48:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18949306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonbinarynino/pseuds/nonbinarynino
Summary: Marinette looks into the lens of the closest camera, and in it, she sees the whole wide world.But when the world looks back, all they see is a scared, wild-eyed teenage girl.(Or, the one where everybody knows who Ladybug is, but there's only one person that she wants to see.)





	i'm in a world apart (a world where roses bloom)

**Author's Note:**

> lukanette fandom.... im invading your territory with like 423432 different ideas. i brought cake.
> 
> tumblr: deadlydeviant

Ladybug knows that she should probably be finding a place to duck and recharge by now. After all, she'd used her Lucky Charm over three minutes ago. It's just that she can feel in her _bones_ how close she and Chat are to defeating today's akuma. She’s just one _eureka_ moment away from figuring out how to end this fight for good; she’s sure of it!

Gasps and screams from the crowd that has been quickly accumulating over the hours, Chat’s witty comebacks, and the destruction that still echoes throughout the city are the only sounds that Ladybug can truly register at this point. When her earrings beep again, she takes note of it in a distant sort of way, but she doesn't spare it a second thought. _I’m not letting him slip away from me,_ she thinks. _I’m so close. I still got this._

“Chat,” she calls, keeping an eye on their opponent so that he won’t hit them while they’re distracted. She isn’t the only one who has grown worn out with time - it shows in Chat’s heaving shoulders, and in the decreasing quality of attacks that the akuma has thrown their way. What time is it, even? The screaming had started right when she'd changed into her comfy clothes after school… she’s certainly missed dinner. “Think it’s time to use your Cataclysm?”

His verbal reply is drowned out in the noise, but she can still see his quick nod in response. Ladybug spares a short glance down at the people a few yards the street - it’s late enough at night that she can only see them through the light of their phones and the few streetlights that haven’t been broken. She should tell them to move farther away, to _run,_ but she can’t. She knows that her voice wouldn’t carry that far.

They make quick work of him after that. The hammering of her heart feels like such a small price to pay when Chat tosses her the akumatized item that had started all of this in the first place. The crowd that had been keeping a small amount of distance rushes forward, excited to get their exclusive interviews, before Ladybug can even use the cure. And the moment after she does, there are at least four different cameras in her face, and she hasn’t even had the chance to check on the victim and see if they’re _okay -_

A tingling feeling sets in her body, intense and almost painful, and it’s only then that Ladybug realizes that she can't remember the last warning beep of her earrings. “Sorry, everyone, I need to-”

It’s futile, of course. Before she can even finish her sentence, her transformation releases. It had been so loud just moments before, but now, in the aftermath, it’s dead silent. All of the reporters and bystanders, even _Chat Noir,_ can only stare at her in shock.

Marinette just looks into the lens of the closest camera, and in it, she sees the whole wide world.

But when the world looks back, all they see is a scared, wild-eyed teenage girl.

Chat pulls her back by the shoulder, shielding her as much as he can from the public eye. (Even though it’s far, far too late.) “Alley at your seven o’clock. I’ll distract them.”

“Thank you,” she whispers, so quiet that even she cannot hear it. With that, she turns on her heel, and she runs as fast as she can down the path that he’d pointed out to her. She expects people to follow her, but even though the volume increases drastically, nobody does. Marinette runs and runs until her feet hurt, until she can no longer recognize the streets that she’s sprinting through. Once she can see absolutely nobody at all, she ducks against the back of an old pet store.

Tikki zooms into her outstretched hands. “Oh, Tikki,” Marinette whispers, everything catching up to her all at once. “I’m so, so sorry. I’m so-”

“It’s alright, Marinette, truly! We’ll work everything out,” Tikki insists. Words from Tikki are usually very calming, but now the comfort just falls on deaf ears. “First, you need to plan where you want to go. Do you need to be Ladybug?”

 _Okay, think, think._ “If I’m transformed, I’ll draw more attention, but I’ll be able to move quicker. I can’t go home, since I’m sure the press will be there. People might not recognize me as Marinette, but I’m not sure if it’s worth it… maybe I should go to one of Chat and I’s hangout spots, but I’m not sure if I want to run into him...” She frowns at her own conundrum, not seeing any option that is truly superior to the others. However, the itch to run as far away as possible takes over. “Would you mind if I transform again?”

“Of course not,” Tikki says. “You might want to send your parents a text first, though. I’m sure they’re very worried right now.”

Marinette opens her purse that she'd thankfully grabbed from her chaise right before transforming. She fishes out cookies for her kwami and digs around a little for her phone. Once she finally grasps it, she realizes that it’s been lighting up with notifications this entire time. They come in so fast that she can’t see most of the contents, but she can catch a few names - _Alya, Nino, Chloe, Juleka, Luka,_ (oh,  _Luka_ )- as they pass by. Marinette ignores most of them, not ready to read what any of her friends are saying, and navigates to her text history with her mom.

 

 **from: Mom <3  
** Be home by midnight! We love you. We can talk about this tomorrow.  
Dad stress-baked your favorite macarons. They’re on the counter for when you get home.

 **from: Marinette**  
Thank you, love you

 

Maybe it would be kinder or more reassuring to write more than that, but it’s all that her brain can come up with. Tears brim at the corner of her eyes. Her parents _know._ All of her friends _know._ Chat _knows._ He’ll probably want to tell her his identity, too, and oh, that’s not such a good thing at all.

“I’m ready to go,” Tikki says. “Marinette, it truly will be okay. You must believe in that.”

“I don’t know how,” Marinette whispers, voice wavering. She still hasn’t stopped shaking. “I - Hawkmoth knows who I _am_. I’m so screwed.”

“It will be okay,” Tikki insists, and Marinette has never heard her sound quite like this. She has been firm and concerned, gentle and direct, but she says these words as if she is willing them into existence with her very breath. It's not quite enough to get Marinette to believe it, but it sure is close. “I’ll say it every day.”

Marinette’s responding nod is jerky. She knows, deep down, that this _isn’t_ the end of the world, but it sure feels like it. Oh no, what if she isn’t allowed to keep her miraculous? What if she wakes up one morning and Tikki’s gone, and Chat and the rest of Paris will never know where she went, and, and -

 _Breathe,_ a voice in her head whispers. _Just breathe._

“Tikki,” Marinette says, and she doesn’t think she’s ever been so scared, “spots on.”

 

* * *

 

For a while, she just runs. She runs and swings and listens to nothing but the slamming of her own footsteps on the concrete rooftops. She doesn’t pay attention to how far away she’s gone or what direction she’s going, or wonder about how worried everybody is, or overthink how differently that scenario could have gone if she’d just wrapped up the fight a minute earlier. She just runs until her feet hurt, until her breaths come out as gasping pants and her hand aches from using her yo-yo so much.

Maybe it's five minutes later, or maybe it's thirty, but eventually she does skid to a stop. The streets around her are so dark, but she's pretty sure that she wouldn't recognize them anyway. Has she ever been to this part of Paris before? Her bakery feels so far away, and yet she still feels encompassed by everything. There's no escaping something like that. It's something that she's just going to have to learn to live with from now on.

She wonders if her phone is still ringing, and she wonders how many of the texts are from Luka. Does he still feel the same way about her that he'd felt this morning? Does he still want to continue traveling down this awkward, incomprehensible path with her, full of vaguely flirty messages and smiles with more meaning than either of them even know how to say? Or will he realize that being with a superhero means being with somebody who's always tired, late, and stressed, and decide that she's just not worth it anymore?

"Of course he still likes you," she tells herself, trying to sound as confident as Tikki had sounded before. "Sure, things will change, but they'll be good changes."

The thoughts of Luka won't quite leave her, so she pulls out her communicator and plugs in the location of his houseboat. It's not exactly  _close,_ but it is a little closer than her own house, so... maybe she should stop by? She won't be able to contact him first to ask, which toes a line that Ladybug isn't quite sure she wants to cross, but it will have to do. If he's sleeping, she obviously won't disturb him, but if there's any chance that he's awake...

Well, she definitely thinks that seeing him tonight would cheer her up, so isn't it worth a shot?

Once she's finally there, she sees Luka right away. He's inside the sitting area with the glass walls, lying down on one of the couches and staring up into the night sky. It's such a Luka thing to do - taking advantage of quiet moments like this, so late at night - that it makes her smile to herself. Is he thinking about the constellations that he's staring into? Is he thinking about her?

Ladybug lands on the deck of the houseboat, and the sound of her landing causes him to jolt and look her way. For a moment, he looks so surprised that Ladybug wonders if he even  _knows,_ and if that text from before had just been a coincidence, but it doesn't take long for his face to soften into something that he only reserves for Marinette. She smiles and waves at him, feeling incredibly shy, but instead of returning the gesture, he beckons her over to where he is.

She opens the door as gently as possible, not wanting to wake up Juleka or Anarka at this hour. "Hey," she says, and the room is so quiet that her whisper carries over to him with no problem at all. "Um, I hope it's not a problem that I stopped by."

"Not at all," Luka says, moving to a sitting position and patting the area next to him. "Come sit."  
  
So she does so, sitting close enough to him that their thighs touch. She stares at her own feet, knowing that if she meets his eyes right now, the look in his eyes will leave her speechless. Luka, of course, doesn't seem to mind the lack of eye contact, (it's so nice to have somebody  _understand_ her, anxiety and social cues and all) but that doesn't stop him from  _looking_ at her. Not that she minds it. She definitely doesn't.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asks. He's not quite whispering, but his voice is low all the same. Even though she knows that it's probably to keep his family from waking up, it makes it seem as though this moment, this frame in time, solely belongs to them. It's theirs forever. "Or do you want to talk of something else? Or nothing at all?"

Ladybug falters, not entirely sure what she really  _does_ want. Luka's presence is so comforting to her, regardless of what they speak about. "I don't mind talking about it, if there's anything that you would like to know," she says. "Nothing's off-limits, if you have questions."

Luka hums and reaches out to tuck a piece of her hair behind her hair. "Did you know that I think you're amazing?"

She finally looks at him, if not just to gape at the question. A surprised laugh works its way up her throat, and he smiles softly at her in response. "That's not exactly the type of question that I thought you'd ask," she teases. "I was kind of expecting a 'where did your superpowers come from', first."

"Well, you have superpowers anyway," he says, as if it's obvious, as if she should see herself the way that he sees her. "I just needed you to know that this doesn't change anything. For me."

A weight lifts off of her shoulders that she hadn't quite known that she'd been carrying. Her cheeks feel warm. "Um, oh! Heh, um, me neither. I mean - not that this  _would_ change anything for me, but, um, yeah."

"Great," he says, as soft as the look that he's giving her. "Now, angel, where did your superpowers come from?"

Ladybug smiles at the parallel, and tells him about Tikki. She talks about Stoneheart and almost giving up, about Master Fu and all of the other kwamis. He listens the whole time, interested not because it's about a superhero, but because it's about  _her._ Marinette.  _He sees me,_ she thinks, giddy.  _He really sees me._

"Can I meet her?" Luka asks, once she's all done. "Tikki? She seems like a good soul."

Something within Ladybug buzzes, pleased, probably Tikki responding to the compliment. "Of course," Ladybug says. "Tikki, spots off."

The pink light reflects off of the glass walls, slightly blinding, but Marinette keeps her eyes open so that she can look at the expression on his face. Luka looks enraptured, and it only increases when he sees her smiling back at him, detransformed. "Wow," he says. He looks down and his eyes crinkle, but before she can ask him why, he reaches out and gently tugs at the strap of her top. "Cute pajamas."

Oh. She flushes with embarrassment. She'd forgotten that she'd already changed out of her school clothes when the akuma had attacked, ready to spend the rest of the day under a blanket and taking her time working on homework. (God, _that's_ what all of the reporters had seen when she'd detransformed. That's humiliating.) "Thanks," she says.

"Luka?" Tikki says, gentle. When he looks at her, she flies over to be directly in front of him. "It's nice to meet you. I've heard so much about you!"

"Hopefully good things," Luka says. Marinette thinks back to some of the things that she's said to Tikki - ranging from "oh my God, he's so  _pretty,_ I'm going to die," to "did you see that way he looked at me? Do you think it means anything?" - and snorts. Yeah. Definitely only good things.

"I don't think you have anything to worry about," Tikki says, the tiniest bit smug. "I'm going to check out the stage!" She winks at Marinette before she goes, and it's not very subtle at all, but it sure does make her heart squeeze with fondness.

"Are you cold?" he asks. "I can get you a sweatshirt, if you'd like."

Marinette opens her mouth to decline, but it  _is_ kind of chilly, and she'll probably end up going home as Marinette in order to not make Tikki continuously transform and detransform over and over again. (Plus, the idea of wearing Luka's clothes seems... nice. Really nice.) "That sounds great," she says. "Do you want me to wait here, or...?"

In response, Luka stands up and offers her his outstretched hand. She takes it to pull herself up, but even when she's standing, she doesn't let go. He doesn't, either. He leads her through the door and to his room, where he immediately opens up his closet to start looking for something that she can wear. Marinette finds herself staring at the guitar picks on his wall. It probably wouldn't be too hard for her to make him a custom one, if she wanted. She should definitely look into that - especially because the Jagged Stone pick that he'd given her has very quickly evolved into a lucky charm of sorts. It'd be nice to make something like that for him.

"Here," he says, and when she turns to look at him, he's holding up a solid black pullover. "Does this work?"

"Yes, that's perfect," she replies, catching it when he tosses it to her. She tugs it on over her sleep shirt, straightening it out so that it looks alright. "Thanks."

"Of course," Luka tells her, taking a few strides towards her. He looks down at his sweatshirt on her frame, and then looks back upwards with red cheeks. She blinks up at him, slightly confused, but the only answer that she gets is him resting his hand on her cheek. “Marinette,” he says, and she doesn’t hear it as much as _feel_ it. The word rattles within every single part of her, and oh, nobody’s ever said her name like that before. “Marinette, I’ve never met anybody like you.”

The whole wide world sees her now, but Luka will always be the one who saw her first.

"Luka," she whispers, feeling as though speaking too loudly will shatter the moment. She means to continue on, but she can't think of anything else to say. He'd been right, after all, when he'd said that music makes more sense than words. Because it  _is_ music that she feels now, in the drum of her heart and in the whistle of his breath. They are writing a new song by merely breathing in each other's air.

"Can I kiss you?" he asks. She blinks back up at him, surprised. It's not as though she's never thought about it, because oh, _she's thought about it,_ but it's always been a distant thought that simultaneously seemed just around the corner and in the far future. She must have some sort of look on her face, because he gives her a reassuring smile. "It's okay if it's too s-"

 _Too soon? Please._ Marinette reaches up and kisses him before he can finish his sentence. He startles against her, clearly not expecting it, but it takes him no time at all to melt into it. It's the first time that she's ever really _kissed_ anybody who isn't Chat Noir, (unless she counts the time that she planted one on Nino in preschool) and it's  _definitely_ the first time that she's kissed anybody like this. She and Luka gravitate towards each other until she can't tell where she stops and he starts. It's magnetic, magnificent,  _marvelous,_ and it feels as though the very world around them sighs in relief. There's a feeling in her chest that she's never quite felt before. It's not the all-encompassing, blurry feelings of loving Adrien, or the small, pleasant tingle of her schoolyard crushes. It's something else entirely. It's hearing his newest song, painting his nails, touching his skin. Her feelings for him don't drown her, but they do uplift her. She's not burnt, just warm, and that is infinitely better.

Marinette sure could feel like this forever.

When she does finally pull ever so slightly away from him, he shakily exhales. A grin tugs at her lips, pleased with her impact on him, and he only looks at her for another moment before he's kissing her again, his hands wrapping around her back and pulling her impossibly closer. Her arms have nowhere to go, so she wraps them around the back of his neck. When he kisses her, he doesn't try to take too much or lead her mouth with his. He kisses her as if it's his favorite hobby that he could spend a whole afternoon doing, as slowly and as carefully as he wants.

But it's not the afternoon, of course. It's nearing midnight, and Marinette truly does need to be getting home. When their second (or third, or fourth, it doesn't take her very long to lose track) kiss ends, she pulls away to lean her forehead against his chest. "I should probably head home soon," she says, even though she'd rather do anything but. Going home feels an awfully a lot like facing the consequences of the day, and she doesn't feel like doing that at all.

"Probably," Luka agrees, though he doesn't sound very happy about it either. Had he worried for her, when she'd been running as far away from the world as possible? "Are you going to go as Ladybug, or do you want me to walk you home?"

"I'd love to walk home," she says.

 

* * *

 

It's late, but the streets are well-lit and people come and go, so the heebie-jeebies of walking outside at night don't creep up on her that much. Plus, she has Luka next to her the whole time, who holds her hand and sings to the buildings that they pass. Tikki follows them, giving them enough space so that they can carry their own conversation but tuning in whenever they ask her a question.

They loiter outside of her house when they finally reach it, both of them unwilling to say goodbye. It doesn't feel like their usual quick farewells after a band practice or quick lunch out with their friends. When tomorrow comes, everything will be different. Not better, not worse - just different. Marinette doesn't think that she's ready for it yet.

She reaches down to pull off his sweatshirt, but he stops her with a gentle hand. "You can keep it," he says. "I have more than I need."

"Are you sure?" she asks, abandoning her motions to take it off and instead fiddling with the hem of it. She's secretly glad that he's letting her keep it. It is quite comfortable, and it smells like him, like sugar and the ocean.

"Of course," he says, as if he wants her to have it as much as she wants to steal it from him. "Plus, it looks cute on you."

Marinette flushes all over again, as if they hadn't just spent a solid ten minutes making out earlier. "Oh, heh, thanks." Before the pause after her words can turn awkward, she blurts out: "Go on a date with me. I mean, we haven't been on a real one before. I think we should, if you want to."

"That sounds great," Luka says, completely sincere. "We can make a plan tomorrow, yeah?"

She nods in agreement, and this time when he leans down to kiss her, she's ready for it. They only kiss once, and it's nothing inappropriate for the public place that they're in, but it's sweet and slow all the same.  _People write sonnets and songs about this type of feeling,_ she thinks. Maybe he'll write a song about her, if he hasn't already.

"Goodnight, angel," he says once they part. Her fingers bury into the front of his shirt, but she eventually drops her arms back to her sides. "I hope tomorrow's a better day."

 _It probably won't be. Today didn't turn out half-bad after all._ "Text me when you get home safe," Marinette replies, instead of giving him a proper answer. "You better brainstorm date ideas on your walk home."

When he walks away, it's with a laugh and a skip in his step. She smiles at the sight, incredibly fond, and heads into the bakery.

The lights are all out except for the kitchen light, which she follows like a moth to a flame. There's a box of chocolate macarons on the counter, with a sticky note on top. Upon further inspection, it says  _to our wonderful Ladybug_ with a poorly drawn ladybug next to it. Marinette laughs, forever grateful for her family, and brings the box underneath her arm.

There's this weird feeling in her gut, though. She feels it when she climbs up her ladder on her way up to her room, and she feels it when she gets into bed. It feels like her day's not over yet, like there's still one more person that she needs to talk to. She doesn't know _why_ she feels that way until she hears something land on the balcony above her, and then - oh, of course. She pulls herself to her feet and opens her trapdoor. Wordlessly, she climbs up to her balcony, giving a small wave to the person leaning against the railing. "Hey, kitty."

Chat turns abruptly, as if he somehow didn't hear her, superhero hearing and all. "Hey, Marinette," he says awkwardly, as if he hasn't thought about what he's going to say to her yet. It's endearing, in a way, but it's also uncomfortable for both parties. "Um... you were out late, huh?"

"Yeah," she confirms. "Did... did everything end up okay? With the reporters?"

"I handled it," he says, scratching the back of his neck. An anxious part of her brain twists his awkwardness into something wicked, but she pushes the thoughts away. Chat's just nervous and worried. His opinion of her hasn't changed at all, right? "Everyone was kind of in shock, so they didn't ask too many crazy questions until I was already on my way out."

"Good, that's good," Marinette responds, nodding jerkily. Just thinking about today's earlier events - staring into a sea of reporters, knowing that her best-kept secret is screwed - is enough to make her eyes burn. She sniffles and reaches up to wipe the tears away, but her body must be mad at her for not letting herself cry earlier, because the tears just keep coming and coming.

"Oh - c'mere," Chat says, and he pulls her into a hug. She buries her face into his shoulder and sobs away the anxiety, the fear, the shock, until there are no tears left for her to cry. He holds her close, the way that her mother used to when she'd come home with a crestfallen face and horror stories of her classmates.

"I'm so scared, kitty," she says, sniffling as she steps away. "What if they don't let me keep my miraculous? What if Hawkmoth comes after my family? My friends? What if I've doomed all of Paris?"

"Ladybug,  _breathe._ We'll figure it all out, I promise. We'll put security measures in place, and we'll work something out with Master Fu." Chat crosses his heart, a gesture both sincere and silly enough to make her laugh. "Plus, c'mon, can you imagine the outrage from everyone in Paris? I think that they'd fight Hawkmoth themselves if you couldn't be a superhero anymore. I mean, have you  _seen_ Twitter today?"

Oh, no. Marinette hadn't even thought twice about social media. "How bad is it?" she asks. "How many people are upset? With me?"

Chat just looks at her as though she's crazy. " _Upset?_ With you? Marinette, can I see your phone for a second?"

She frowns, but unlocks it and gives it to him anyway. He scrolls a bit, and then shows her the screen. It's the worldwide trends on Twitter, and her eyes widen with every separate word that she reads on the list. The first is simply  _Ladybug,_ but the second is _#weloveyouladybug_ , and right below that one is _#thankyoumarinette_. "Are these really  _worldwide_?" she asks, baffled. "I'm just a kid from Paris."

"No, Marinette," Chat says with a smile, giving her back her phone. "You're the world's best superhero."

 _He still thinks that. Even though he knows that it's me._ "Are you surprised?" she asks, instead of further following his train of thought. "That it's me, I mean?"

Chat looks thoughtful for a moment, but he ends up shaking his head. "No. I can't say I would have guessed, but it all makes sense now. I'm happy it's you. Though, uh, do you want me to tell you who I am?"

Marinette frowns. It seems a lot less disastrous now, but something about it still rubs her the wrong way. She'll definitely need to talk to Tikki about it tomorrow. "Not right now," she tells him. "Maybe not for a while. I think I need to learn how to adapt to this first."

"That's fair," he says, though he seems disappointed. He looks back in the opposite direction, staring out at Paris. Marinette comes up next to him and rests her arms against the railing. "That was Luka, right? Silencer?"

She hadn't heard him land on her balcony until after she'd already been in bed, but he must have seen Luka walking back home. She's thankful that he's the one to bring it up, because she's not sure if a bad reaction from him is something that she can deal with at the moment. "Um, yeah," Marinette confirms. "He's one of my closest friends."

Chat hesitates for a moment, as if he doesn't want to know the answer to the question that he's about to ask. It doesn't take him long to ask anyway, though. "Do you love him?"

It's out of the blue, but she can't exactly say that she doesn't know why he's asking. His crush on her has been obvious for months, but he doesn't sound upset or resigned or anything like that. He just sounds curious, or perhaps a bit concerned. "Maybe." 

He keeps looking out at the skyline, but after a moment, he says, "I'm happy for you. Really." She's heard him tell a hundred lies, and this doesn't sound like one of them. It... it feels really good, knowing that he's okay with it. Not that she would ever need his permission or approval, of course, but the fact that this won't be a sore subject is an immense relief.

"Thank you, kitty."

Chat leaves after a few more minutes, and she watches as he darts off into the distance and out of sight. It's... weird, watching him go. It feels like the closing of a previous chapter and the beginning of a new one all at once. But it's not like she's losing him. Instead, it feels like a healthier friendship for the both of them is on the horizon, and she just can't wait to see it.

Marinette closes her eyes, breathes in the night air, and doesn't think that tomorrow sounds so scary after all.


End file.
